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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255586">Gas explosion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamatlaslammas/pseuds/bamatlaslammas'>bamatlaslammas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, Gen, Literally at least one death per chapter, Suicide Attempt, death of children, very short chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:15:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamatlaslammas/pseuds/bamatlaslammas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Who could the 12 muggles supposedly killed by Sirius Black be? In this story I tried to give these 12 Muggles faces in some really short chapters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/755862">Gas-Explosion</a> by Moon47.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this around 6 years ago in a different language and posted it in a different forum (under a different name, but it was still written by me) but finally got around to translating it. I would not call it one of my best stories, but I like the idea of it and the last chapter makes it open for a possible longer sequel at some point.</p><p>The prologue can be thought of as if a newscaster was reading it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I have just received word that the number of deaths has been confirmed now. There have been 12 casualties at today’s gas explosion. It is still unclear why the explosion occurred, the affected district has been evacuated completely and is closed until the investigation is complete.</p><p>Let’s take a minute of silence for the the victims of this tragic accident, the countless injured and the 12 who died.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Maria Rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Typical. The kids are out and about with their father, so Maria has time and space to prepare their home for the upcoming visit of the in-laws. Only there is no milk left and Maria really needs to bake this one specific cake or her mother in law will complain again how much better her son could have done.<br/>
Why does this always seem to happen when she is in a rush? Quickly leaving everything as it is, the corner store is not that far away, so a quick walk there and back should save the cake. Then of course the queue is especially long for that time of the day and of course nobody will let her skip her ahead even though she only has her one carton of milk.<br/>
Maria runs out of the store, turns the corner, and starts to sprint towards her home when suddenly there is a huge tremor. She is sent flying, as if she wouldn’t weight more than a leave and lands a few metres further on the ground. The impact is hard. She has stopped breathing. Milk slowly mixes with the ever-growing pool of blood below her. This time there won’t be a cake for the in-laws…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Anne McKinnon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This time Anne would beat her brother! Every time her brother and her raced somewhere the five-year older brother won.<br/>
But not this time! She did not notice that her brother did not feel like a race at all. That he only agreed to appease her. How could she notice? She had already run ahead, to make sure to arrive first at their parents car. It was parked just a few streets down, she had to pick up her speed or Jonas would overtake her on the last few metres. Like last time. Or the time before that. But not today, today was her day!<br/>
Her parents and brother saw her turn the corner and in the next second they heard a big bang. From the street Anne just turned into. The rest of her family began to ran now, and as they turned the corner, they could see her small body on the ground. Next to what was once their car. Jonas overtook his parents on the last metres and carefully gathered his sister in his arms. She was still breathing. And her eyes slowly opened once more. He ignored the chaos around him, only his sister counted in this moment. Such a small, fragile body. Broken body. She breathed heavily, moved her lips to a small smile and whispered quietly “I won”. Her brother could only nod and while tears poured down his face she took her last breath. And then she fell asleep one last time, with a small smile, thinking of her last victory.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sara Amton and Thomas Millows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were only 3 and 5 years old when the siblings were torn apart and sent to different foster homes. While Sara ended up in northern England, her big brother Thomas was taken to the south-west. They lost contact quite soon after and now, finally, after 25 years, they would meet up for the first time since being separated.<br/>
While Sara by now lived in the centre of England, happily married, Thomas and his life-partner still lived in the south-west. Thomas partner was also the reason they would meet up now. Stephen had noticed how much Thomas would have wished to see his sister again and had started to look for her. </p><p>And he found her. </p><p>After a few conversations via phone the siblings decided to meet up at this nice small café and this is where they were now. And much to their relief they got along amazingly well. They had a lot of catching up to do, stories and memories to share, so after a long talk they decided to continue on talking while taking a walk. They would definitely meet up again soon, but first Sara had to get back to her husband.<br/>
And while Thomas walked his little sister to her car, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a man with a stick in his hand. He shook his head, it probably was just the light or something, why would a grown up man carry around a small stick like that? He turned back to his sister. In the next moment both were thrown through the air. They did not have a chance. They died instantly. But now they were united, because after all those years they had found each other again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Robert Owen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Why could he never leave the house on time? Robert would spend enough time at football training running around, it was not necessary to also run to the training grounds. But he did not want to have to run extra rounds for being late, so running to training once again it was. Normally he would take the nicer route through the park, but he knew he could save at least a minute cutting through the side streets. Of course, his bike had a flat tire, whenever he could really need it, it was out of commission! Why couldn’t his mother have woken him!<br/>
After lunch he went to his room and fell on his bed. Just to close his eyes for a few minutes he had thought… well but then he fell properly asleep. Awaking 10 minutes before his training was due to start.<br/>
His trainer was already disliking him for some reason, if he was now turned up late he for sure would be benched during their next game. This thought made him increase his speed once more, he passed a little girl, slid around the corner and bumped into two men who were strangely dressed. But he had no time to apologize, he could not be late. And so he did not turn around. Did not see one of them taking out a stick from his pocket. The next moment he was torn from his feet and thrown forward. He did not manage to catch himself and landed headfirst on the street. His last thoughts were with his training, now he definitely would not be able to make it on time anymore…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Susan, Michael and Lue Prinston</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vacation. Ice-cream just had to be a part of a proper vacation and with this argument Sean tried to convince his parents since they had arrived. And he could be a quite convincing 9-year-old. Finally, on their last day of their holiday his parents agreed, and he was allowed to get ice-cream. Alone, as he was already quite grown, especially if compared to his little sister who was only 2 years old. Besides, he knew his way around the area by now.<br/>
So, while his family was already going ahead, he stood in line at the ice-cream stand. By the time he had finally received his big scoop of chocolate ice cream, his parents and sister were not in sight anymore, probably already a few streets away. But that was no bother, he knew the way to the hotel. Leisurely licking ice-cream, he strolled towards his destination. If he arrived too soon his sister would probably complain about not getting any ice cream. And once back at the hotel he only had to pack his stuff back into his trunk, so there was really no rush for him.<br/>
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he only realized something was wrong when he was standing in the middle of the chaos. The road was reduced to rubble and ashes. And here and there a hand protruded from the rubble. Shocked, he dropped his ice-cream and looked around. </p><p>Where were his parents!? And his sister!? </p><p>In the meantime, some onlookers had gathered and a siren could be heard getting closer. An elderly woman wanted to pull the boy aside, but Sean did not want to leave yet. He first had to find his family! But the now arrived emergency vehicles blocked the way and Sean had to watch with the rest of the bystanders as more and more lifeless people were recovered from the rubble. </p><p>And then he saw her. </p><p>Lue, his little sister was picked up by one of the men. Lifeless. And only a few minutes later Susan and Michael, his parents. They were dead. His sister was dead. And with those thoughts finally taking hold in his mind he fainted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Paul Richards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For more than 30 years now, Paul could be found on this park bench at this time. Reading the newspaper. Previously only on weekends, now every day. It was just his place. Part of his routine. If he did not come here, he was missing something.<br/>
Here he found the peace he needed so badly. And while he was sitting here reading the newspaper, the world passed by him. There had been so many irregularities in his life, that he valued this routine that much more. He appreciated still being able to walk to his park bench. Without help. He appreciated the shade the old oak gave him here.<br/>
This park bench was like an oasis for him. Paul had narrowly escaped an accident several times and thus he had learned to be appreciate especially the little things. He had seen how badly some others had it. Not having enough food. No clean drinking water. Murder.<br/>
He hadn't closed his eyes to it, but while he sat on his park bench, everything else was gone. He was completely in the moment, in the here and now. On this bench. He still had the option to be here. And this bench was still there, which was actually quite surprising in this area. It was also some kind of miracle that the oak had not yet been felled. And since he knew how fleeting things could be, that nothing ever remains how it is, he enjoyed it for as long as he could. </p><p>And the evanescence did make itself known once again. On this day. Because the tree did not survive the "gas explosion" just a few meters away. The tree broke and buried the man and the bench under it. And so, Paul died. In his paradise. His oasis. Between oak and park bench, with his newspaper in hand, because, as I said, everything is transient, nothing remains.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Josephine Umper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TRIGGER WARNING - Suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life is not fair. It sucks. That was one thing Josephine was sure about. And while she ran through the streets, tears streaming down her face, she was as sure as never before. It was enough. She could not take it anymore. It had to stop and if the others did not end it, well, then it seems she had to. Finally. With a farewell letter in her pocket, barefoot, because she wanted to feel the ground one last time, she got closer and closer to the high standing parking garage. Her mind made up, she would jump today. She had left her mobile at home, just to make sure, not that she was distracted last minute by something and changed her mind. Because she would regret it, that was for sure.</p><p>Like in trance she stepped closer and closer to her end. The upper most park deck was almost empty, perfect. She walked towards the edge and looked down. Yes, the hight would suffice. Carefully she climbed the railing, she wanted to make the decision about when it was time, no coincidence anymore. </p><p>And while she stood up there, literally on the edge of her life, she suddenly saw pictures in her mind. Pictures of her cousin. He was only 3 years old, but exuded such pure happiness. And he basically hero worshipped her. Could she really do this to him? Snatch his heroine from him? Did she want to be responsible for making such an innocent child sad? Make him cry? And her aunt. And her best friend. Would they understand? She had written down everything they had to know in her letter. Everything, she had never told them. The reason why she could not continue anymore. But was this really the solution? Was there really no other way out?</p><p>And so she stood here at the turning point and didn't know what to do next. Something would change, but why did she have to be the victim? Always her? Besides, she couldn't do that to her friend. Who would be left for her then? And with one last deep breath she jumped.</p><p>Onto the parking deck. She had made up her mind. She would no longer keep silent. Never again. It didn't have to be her letter to deliver the news, no, she would do it herself! She strode resolutely through the streets, on the way to her aunt. The moments on the railing had made her strong. Strong for what was to come. </p><p>But the letter would still have to do its job. She wouldn't be able to tell her secret anymore. Because she was suddenly thrown through the air. Came up a few metres away. And while the last bit of her life was draining from her, her final thoughts were on her letter. The letter that would reveal what her parents had done to Josephine for years.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Charlene and Xander Bowfield</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day of truth has come. Today Maria would tell her parents what makes her fiancé so special. Well, that was not the reason for the engagement. It was more like other way around: The engagement is the reason why Charlene and Xander were let in on the secret. After seemingly endless discussions, Maria has finally convinced Lucas to stop lying to her parents. Because Maria does not want to keep this from her parents any longer. She does not want to keep telling them lies and having to watch her lover pretend to be someone, or should she say something, else whenever the Bowfields visit. And this is exactly why she had called her parents to see her this afternoon. She has left the flat in its normal condition and not prepared it for the visit as usual. No, today she would place the cards face up. Her parents are a part of her life and they should know that Lucas is a wizard. There are still times when she couldn’t believe it herself, but he kept proving to her that he isn't a Muggle like herself.</p><p>As she knows her parents, they would probably arrive around an hour early, park clearly visible in front of the house, first take a walk through the surrounding streets, while discussing and guessing the reason why their daughter has invited them over. Only after this walk they would ring the doorbell. It has become some sort of tradition. </p><p>But today the doorbell stays silent. Instead it is the phone that rings. And a nurse tells Maria that her parents have been hospitalized after a gas explosion. And that they have just found Marias number as an emergency contact in case they were unavailable for each other.</p><p>When Lucas came home that evening, he expects to finally be completely honest to his soon-to-be in-laws after finding them observing all the wizarding stuff in their flat with some fascination. Instead he finds his finacée alone, crying. Her parents have succumbed to their injuries shortly after arriving at the hospital.<br/>
Lucas swallows deeply, then turns to Maria and says in a flat voice: “It was not a gas explosion that killed your parents…”</p>
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